


Banshee

by YaminoTenshi202



Series: Grá mo chroí [3]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fights, First Kiss, Getting Together, Incest, Injury Recovery, M/M, No Underage Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated for subject matter, See previous tags, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-06-15 09:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19612126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: As Scrooge and Donald stared down at their hands, fingers interlaced, they'd never know but they thought the same thing.Nothing in the world around them would tear them apart.





	Banshee

_2001_

The scent of tears is often hidden under the scents of concrete, embalming fluid and hospital-grade disinfectant, but Scrooge couldn't help scenting his own tears that threatened to escape his control. The helicopter landing pad was burning under the summer sun.

"... I'm sorry, but do you happen to know what room my nephew is in?"

"Your nephew is in room-" Scrooge excused himself quickly from the reception party, catching the room number over the slow whumping of the propellers and holding it tightly to the forefront of his mind. He could only think of ignoring the scent of Death and chemicals.

The silence of the elevator - going down to the waiting area - was welcome company, even if there was a soldier there on duty, keeping an eye on the aging drake. Soon, Scrooge would be with Della, and then they'd be with Donald.

Scrooge McDuck would never confess to being sentimental, not really - he was a man of grit, determination, and cunning, hardly paternal qualities when he'd been given the guardianship of Hortense's children, and later the children of his siblings-in-law. His qualities merely helped him to keep them safe, and happy. They'd learnt much of the world when it came to them or when they were thrown in.

Donald Duck, however, seemed to be the exception. Scrooge would often find Donald following him wherever he went. Often, uncle and nephew would find somewhere quiet to enjoy each other’s presence. Scrooge had read his nephew so many books; through pages they’d gone on so many adventures to so many places, and through Scrooge’s stories - so many in fact that when it came time to go off into the world, Donald was ready for whatever adventure the family would go on.

Scrooge sat down when he made it to the waiting area, waiting for Della. Gladstone would meander about and get a treasure out of luck. Fethry was often too curious and would rely on Gladstone for safety. Della was headstrong and stubborn, often getting hurt with her whims for excitement. Donald, however, would be firm, determined, creative… and Scrooge could see a bit of himself in his nephew.

Maybe that’s why...

"Hey, Uncle Scrooge…" Della's eyes were swollen, rose-tinted. Scrooge did not speak, only holding her for a moment before parting from her again. She had walked slowly through the doors, and her voice was hoarse. No, the Duck twins should have never tried to be separate, but it was Scrooge’s fault, surely.

The soldier that had been at the elevator retrieved them both and volunteered to escort them to Donald’s room. Scrooge nodded, afraid that should he do something incorrect or offensive, Donald would be kept away from him. That didn’t stop him, however, from thinking that the whole blasted navy should be dismantled and made again so that no one would feel the pain that was boiling his blood into pudding. Donald wanted to help people, wanted to be an engineer…

“Here you are, sir. Miss.” The soldier saluted, nodded to them and left them at the door.

“Uncle Scrooge,” Della warbled softly, but Scrooge didn’t answer. He let out a shaky sigh and opened the door. To say the scent of blood was unfamiliar to him would be a lie. Della hurried forward, reaching for her brother’s hand as Scrooge came close behind.

If Scrooge could, he would have broken apart at that moment. He would have cursed every creature that he knew of, every being of existence, just for this to never have occurred.

A sling was cradling Donald’s right arm to his front. A bandage covered part of his bill. Some Vaseline bandages came over his cheek, hiding some wound underneath them. Bandages were rolled around his neck. The heart monitor not turned on, but Scrooge had asked the physician about everything in his nephew’s condition.

After going to surgery, Donald was no longer at risk for shock. His vitals all back to normal, they discontinued the heart monitor. Scrooge was sure that the sound of the heart monitor would have driven him into unconsciousness with panic.

Della stepped forward, grabbing Donald’s good hand. She squeezed gently, trying to get her brother's attention, as she had always done.

"Donnie?"

Sleepy eyes opened and they focused on Della. Scrooge felt something in his stomach twist. It only seemed to vanish when those blue eyes wandered over to Scrooge, a happiness and a relief filling their light.

"Del... Rooge..." Donald's voice sounded weak, weaker than it had ever been. It was much more buccal than before.

"Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah." Scrooge already had the cup of water in his hand before he realised that he was helping Della sit her brother up better in the bed. They raised the head of the bed up with the controls.

"Here, lad." Scrooge held the straw still as Donald managed to catch the plastic tube on his tongue and began to greedily drink. The older drake's stomach churned at the thought of his nephew being denied anything, even for a procedure, not when he worked so hard and ended up injured for his trouble.

"Thank you," Donald sighed, resting against his pillow. "... What day is it?"

"Um, March 28."

Donald looked pensive before nodding only slightly. "It's been a while."

"What was the last day that you remember, Donald?" Della pressed, holding her brother's hand again.

"March 19..."

Donald nodded, closing his eyes. He looked to Della and smiled. Della pressed herself towards her brother, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Donald hummed.

Scrooge smiled at the both of them, happy to see the twins together again. It was the way that things were meant to be, in every sense. He came close and placed a hand on Della's shoulder blade.

"It's all right, dear. He's here."

"But he- But Donnie, you almost didn't-" Della sighed and stood up. "I'm just- I'm gonna take a walk, okay?"

"Oh," Scrooge said, stepping back for a moment. "Okay, lass. Go walk, Della. The air might do you some good."

Della nodded, kissing Donald's forehead. "I'll be back in a minute, Don. I just have to think about something really quick. Gotta take time for the words, you know."

"Okay, Della."

Della stood up and squeezed Donald's hand one last time. She stepped out rather quickly, closing the door behind her.

"She's worried."

Donald closed his eyes, nodding, "I know. I know... I just want to lay here. Would you stay?"

Scrooge sat down on the edge of the bed, letting his fingers go over Donald's sling. "Are you in pain?"

"Not really," Donald confessed, "these have to be the best drugs the hospital has."

"Calm down, Donald," Scrooge chided, chuckling. "We'll make sure to wean you off before you get too crazed."

Donald reached for Scrooge's hand. "Thanks, Scrooge." He looking up at his uncle, sighing.

"I thought about you."

Scrooge held Donald's hand, shushing him gently. "It's all right, lad. I'm here. I'm not leaving."

"I would write letters, and everyone write to their partners, spouses... I wrote to you."

Donald looked away from his uncle, staring down at their hands in his lap. His sling was itching at his neck.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t- I didn’t mean to… ruin what we have right now.”

“Donald.”

“I just,” Donald interrupted. He sighed and continued, “I just really want you to know that I thought of you, that way that I told you before…”

"I-"

"I love you. I love you how I shouldn't, and all I thought about was how I haven't kissed you yet. Even if I never would, I just kept- Thinking about it... I dreamt about it when they were lifting me to the hospital," Donald explained, keeping his eyes off of his uncle. Perhaps if he didn't look, Scrooge could take all of this without yelling at Donald for how... for the content of such thoughts.

When Donald was done, the two sat in silent judgement of Time. The clock was far too loud to be normal. Scrooge broke the silence, his voice rough and almost angry.

"Really, lad? Can't you wait for someone to talk?"

"Well, sorry if I just want to move on with this!" Donald felt his body jolt with the energy of rage right under his feathers. 

Scrooge sighed, squeezing Donald's hand. His nephew only pulled his hand away, scalded. Scrooge flinched as well.

“Don’t just act like you want this!” Donald cried. He could feel tears burning at his eyes, pain shooting up into his shoulder as he struggled to sit up on his own. Scrooge came forward, but Donald only hissed back.

“You’re going t’ hurt yourself, Donald.” Scrooge’s voice was stern, even. He sounded so much like a father in that moment, it made Donald nauseous. Donald pushed his uncle away. He had hated how their relationship had started. Not as family, but Scrooge had become akin to Donald's parent in the years since the adoption - since the funeral - and it had only set them at a distance that gave him chills.

"Just leave, Scrooge."

Scrooge looked so upset, so- "Lad, I'm not leaving."

"You want to!" Donald felt his fingers dig into Scrooge's arm, the familiar red coat underneath his hands stretching, unforgiving. "And I want you to! No matter how much I want... I am not going to make you stay, whether because I forced you or because you think that you have to be here."

Scrooge's eye twitched, both eyes closing as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you think I'd ever force myself to do something like- I wouldn't-"

"But you would!" Donald let the rage inside of him spill out, only just, and he could feel Scrooge hold on as Donald hurled insults at him. How dare Scrooge try to be a parent when it was the last thing that Donald wanted of him! The man that had raised him had proven time and time again that he would move the Sun and the Moon for the ducklings that were left in his care. How many times had Scrooge gotten hurt to protect them, only to take on the role of the parent who coddled, scolded, and reassured the ducklings from the harsh realities that lay outside their front door; Donald only knew everything so well that Scrooge would not leave, not when one of his children-

Scrooge moved, pressing his beak to the corner of Donald's beak.

This was... unprecedented.

Donald had kissed before. He wasn't naive in the aspect of physical love, even if he never saw a need for it. He'd been allowed to watch Panchito and Jose before, when Jose had made Panchito feel so loved that Donald had had to distract the RA due to the sound complaints. Storkules had asked to hold Donald once, and the god had held a younger Donald while stroking himself, whispering Donald's name as a litany for his love. They had kissed just as Storkules spilled his seed, pressing kisses to Donald's neck; for a short moment, Donald felt loved in the way that he had always felt for his uncle, but his heart had not wavered, still loyal to a love that had never been his. Donald had pressed a kiss to Storkules' neck, forever sealing that bond of friendship between them.

He knew that his uncle also had had lovers in the past. Goldie O'Gilt had been quite a subject in stories, and Scrooge had told his nephew of his love for her. She was tenacious, cunning, could be ruthless; however, it had never stopped the tender moments when they would lie together, touching and teasing in the way that a mirror could - revealing truth and hiding nothing. Sometimes, he had lain with men. Scrooge had begun to tell him these stories when Donald had confessed to these feelings towards men. With blushing faces and nervous glances, Scrooge had advised Donald on how to be with men, how to make sure that he could avoid all pain possible. He even taught Donald how to not feel so guilty about anything, about anyone that he would ever fall in love with - love only created things of happiness when practiced with properly, and Scrooge never assumed that Donald's love was anything more than that of family.

This kiss...

Donald felt himself sag against Scrooge, his body yielding to whatever his heart wanted. Scrooge was holding him, gently and tenderly. They shifted slightly, and now it was a proper kiss, Scrooge's beak against his was soft, malleable to Donald's. Fingers were travelling along his jaw, a graze of a blessing. Soon, the kiss ended, but Scrooge was breathing against him.

Don't wake up.

Don't wake up.

"It's not a dream, Donald. I'm here," Scrooge whispered.

"Are... Are you sure?" Scrooge only kissed him again in reply, whispering just as he did.

"Nothing you can say or do right now could make me leave your side."

Donald felt those words tear away at something inside of him. His eyes burnt more than before, and the awful feeling of acid at the base of his throat came up again. It was a nausea of happiness. With that, Donald felt himself relax as another kiss came to his lips. He could hear the wail of a banshee in his mind, letting go of that last bit of pain that told him that Scrooge's tongue in his mouth was a bad thing to partake in.


End file.
